


Lost

by ellomello16



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Break Up, Flashbacks, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 11:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13433679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellomello16/pseuds/ellomello16
Summary: Three years after the summer of ‘89, Eddie and Richie are newly broken up. But, when Eddie goes missing, Richie is left to grieve along with the Losers. Understand how Richie, Bill, Stan, Ben, Mike and Beverly deal with the loss of their friend. What does the future hold when they learn what’s to come?





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Finally the time has come! I've been planning this for awhile, since maybe October? Well, now it has been created! I would like to thank my co-creator Zee you are awesome for helping me create this story. And for my Editor, she is amazing they all are. I hope you guys enjoy it! (There's not much of the other ships, and I tried to give as much love as I could to the characters)

November 2nd, 1993

   

_Every point in a relationship is meant to have its good and bad days. A relationship can be functional with only a few simple steps. Step one: Always understand one another. Avoid trying to be a complete smartass._

 

“Why can’t you fucking understand that sometimes everything is not all about you?!” Richie Tozier. Charming man with a foul mouth. The only thing actually keeping his frail boyfriend, Eddie Kaspbrak, from being a complete mess. That is, until today.

 

“You have been avoiding me this whole time. I called your landline almost a hundred fucking times this week, asshole. Then I get a call from Susan Johansen that you are causing chaos at her party? Especially on a Tuesday?! Explain that to me Rich! You said you were done with the drinking!” Eddie Kaspbrak roars back with the same amount of force as his boyfriend- or is he even his boyfriend at the moment? The usual voice of reason hypochondriac has reached the brim of his patience with Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier’s bullshit.

 

Richie only scoffs with no intention of actually listening to the smaller of the two, turning his shoulder to grab another cigarette (or ‘cancer stick’, as Eddie calls them) from the ‘Winstons’ brand box inside of his worn out jacket pocket. He knows very well that Eddie had a problem with him smoking right in front of the asthmatic, but at this point, he gave no fucks at all. With one, two, three flicks from the steel lighter, he inhales the relief of pure smoke while Eddie grimaced.

 

_Step two: Be kind and gentle to one another. Have a calm talk about your honest thoughts and feelings. Work it out._

 

“Are you really gonna smoke right now? In my room? You’re such an ass- Hey! I’m talking to you dipshit!” Eddie turns to the taller male who seemed to have been ready to walk out the door of his bedroom. Oh how thankful Eddie was that his mother was out playing bingo with her drunk excuses of friends.

 

“You know the funny thing about you, Eds? You. You’re an entire joke. All you care about is your prissy self and how bad you want everything in the world to be perfect! Just like you! Oh, wait, you’re nowhere near as perfect as you think you are. In fact, you’re the total opposite! You’re not worth it, Kaspbrak.” Richie says, with not even a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Only being replaced with venom, dripping with every word he spat at him.

 

_And the final step: Love each other. Let the other know how much you deeply care, giving them the reassuring love and understanding. That’s it! You can learn to have a healthy, functional relationship!_

 

At least that’s what it says, in an article titled “Dating: 3 Simple Steps” in a teen magazine. Teen Beat, to be exact, of which Ben had recommended him to read. Teen Beat is the type of magazine that has all the scoop on the fad celebrities (including posters of them, which is where Ben gets his _New Kids On The Block_ pictures), and those typical monthly horoscopes about love that give you false hope. But this time, general relationship advice was in place of those so-called fortune tellers. And as expected, it sucked.

 

But, as soon as the words left the taller boy’s mouth, Eddie froze. He only stared, mouth agape, right up at the other male. He tried to search for every sign that Richie didn’t mean it. That he was just fired up and needed to be cooled down. Anything that can give Eddie the reassurance that his boyfriend cared. Well maybe now ex-boyfriend. Deep inside, Eddie wanted to apologize. To take back every word he said, just so Richie can love him again. Because they both knew Eddie was never able to function without him.

 

Richie didn’t say anything else. He gave a neutral expression, showing no sign of care at all. Although, in his gut, deep down, he needed Eddie’s response. To _say something._

 

Eddie was frozen, until he was able to blink back the huge pool of hot tears in his eyes and swallow the ginormous lump in his throat, he said -

 

“Fuck you.” With a trail of the smallest whimper, trying to contain the sobs that could only hold guilt and pain in one broken ball of what was now known as _heartbreak_.

 

Eddie couldn’t look at him anymore, turning away, back facing Richie Tozier who was now officially his ex. “You know your way out.” He mumbled, trying to hide the way he wiped his tears on his cotton sweater sleeves, smelling like detergent and bleach, now soaked with salty tears.

 

Richie only snorted, shaking his head at the sight in front of him. Somewhere in his messed up brain he knew, he’d regret it later. He took a final puff from his cigarette and opened the bedroom door, not even a foot out until Eddie spoke again, his voice shaky, trying to regain a smooth flow of words through his lips.

 

“Don’t ever talk to me again..” He said with the best, steady voice he could provide. He didn't mean it. But his mouth spoke before he could even think.

 

Richie froze in place of the doorway, anger flowing through his veins as he took what was left of the cigarette butt and pressed it into the frame of Eddie’s door, burning it out. He really had no care in the world as the pieces of ash fell from the singed paint on the frame to the carpet. A permanent mark to remind Eddie of the disaster that hung around the air of what there once was. Something that was warm and inviting now had a foul stench of sour emotions and left a bland taste in the mouth.

 

“Don’t worry your little head ‘bout it. I’ll come by tomorrow when I drop off your things. Then after that, it’ll be the last time you’ll see me, Eds.” He said so calmly, saying the once joke of a nickname with a hiss.

 

And with that, he left, leaving a small boy hyperventilating as tears and hiccups choked him, almost suffocating him to death if he didn’t take almost six pumps from his trusty aspirator.

 

-

 

November 3rd, 1993

 

As promised, Eddie watched from the window as Richie came down the walkway of his house, placing a cardboard box of random things on his porch. Eddie tried so hard to pry his eyes away from him. The way his long legs took each step that was always two steps for Eddie. His shoulders slumped in a resting position with his hands in his pockets as he walked away from the home for the last time.

 

Waking up that morning for Richie Tozier was different though. Cold and empty. He sat up with his face scrunched with confusion, until all the memories began to flow back into his head. The fight. The words exchanged. The emotions. The _breakup_. Luckily, there was no school because of ‘Teacher's Work Day’, where the students stay home while teachers attend meetings and talk about what the upcoming semester will consist of.

 

Even after the memories coming back, he felt nothing. Getting up almost half asleep, he started collecting everything that Eddie ever gave or left in his presence. Starting with the cassettes he received as gifts for his birthdays or even on his bad days. (Richie always listened to them, how they were always in alphabetical order and from happy songs to simple calming classical music. Eddie had created serene and cheerful mixtapes for when Richie was down from his alcoholic mother to a neglecting father.)

 

The next thing was the little notes of encouragement Eddie would slip into his locker (He’d write, for example, “Have a great day, I love you!” “Good luck on your chemistry test!”). He figured instead of ripping them up or burning them in a trashcan like a total cliché romance movie he’s seen with a certain redhead, Beverly; he’d might as well just return them to the writer himself. He had then only realized that Eddie didn’t leave much with him, only a few extra t-shirts and books he always brought along when he'd stay the night.

 

Collecting the items was easy. Placing the said items in the beat up cardboard box was a breeze. But, as soon as he collected the box in his arms and walked out of his messy room, it suddenly felt empty. Like as if those lame objects, of what was once a happy memory of a boyfriend that was now pushed to be forgotten, held some kind of force-field against him. Although, being the careless jackass he was, he ignored it. Every tug and pull, he kept walking, outside his home, down the five lousy blocks, the cement pathway of the Kaspbrak home, until he made it to the front porch.

 

It was something he was never familiar with. It felt like a magnet dragging him away; telling him to turn around and hide away those items that he knew were dear to his heart at one point, giving him the well-known fluttering feeling in his stomach and chest. Being Richie Tozier in general was never familiar actually. He could barely be accustomed with himself, but it didn’t stop him from being, or pretending, who he thought he was.

 

That definitely didn’t stop him from dropping the box next to the doorway of the house he thought of as home at one point. Or at least the person who lived inside was his home - no it was not Sonia Kaspbrak, you heartless monster. This is no time for a joke.

 

Letting go of the box was probably the hardest thing he did, though. He just didn’t realize it. But once the feeling of rough, faded cardboard left his hands, his fingertips ran cold. He didn’t want to believe that it was the feeling of never being able to feel the strange warmth of plain, lifeless objects. No, he told himself that it was just the new fall breeze, coming to him as a warning of the upcoming winter and that he has indeed overstayed his welcome on the porch.

 

Backing away, slipping his hands into his pockets of his ripped jeans, he began going down the same cement pathway again for the last time. He fiddled with his lighter in his hand on the left, while his other constantly squeezed at the pack of cigarettes on his right. For some odd reason, he didn’t have the usual craving for the nicotine flavor he always needed. He didn’t want the killer smoke to flow down into his lungs, causing a slow death. Smoking the usual tobacco stick would not bring him relief at this moment. And he felt totally okay with that as he left the Kaspbrak residence, not coming back since.

 

-

 

November 24th, 1993

 

It had been almost three weeks since the tragic incident of the Eddie and Richie breakup. At first it was a total surprise to the rest of the Losers. Eddie had told Ben and Beverly first, which led to Richie telling the latter almost two days later.

 

She had come back to Derry only six months after leaving for Portland, her aunt stating that taking her away from her friends was enough torture in her life. The Losers were definitely grateful for that decision, their group going from broken to coming back together. She was like the missing piece of a puzzle that made the entire group complete. It was no lie, everyone agreed on that. She was known for listening to their problems and giving great advice. Without her, none of the Losers would be able to function properly.

 

Beverly had transferred information from both sides of the story to Bill and Stan, the both of them solving the main issue of how their fight started in the first place.

 

The Losers didn’t believe in choosing sides, that was their one rule as a group of friends (unless it’s picking a movie for movie nights or sleepovers). Choosing sides led to anarchy, a democracy gone wrong with votes of the party. They supported each and every one of their friends, even if the once-was power couple couldn’t even look at each other. Ben had tried countless times to convince the both of them to just talk it out and be friends again, at least. Eddie’s response was very much against it, not because he hated Richie (he’d always love him in some way), it was because he couldn’t bear the thought of knowing how Richie really felt about him.

 

After Richie’s confession about how Eddie wasn’t worth anything, it became stuck in his brain. He couldn’t shake it out, and it was probably because it was true. At least that’s what he convinced himself to believe. Ever since then, the smaller boy felt more insecure about himself. Asking questions about every single thing he did. _‘Was that too harsh?’ ‘Maybe I’m making this about myself.. I need to stop being so controlling.’_

 

It was always the same response, though. “It’s just hard. I don’t think Richie and I will ever be the same again, and it’s all my fault.” He says, finding his high calf socks interesting as he grabbed his binder and chemistry book from his locker, closing it with a frown. “I gotta go. See you at lunch, Ben.” He said with a forced, sorrowful smile that was bad at hiding how much pain it really held.

 

Ben sighed as he leaned against the cold lockers, trying to think of another way to get them to talk. His thoughts were interrupted when the bell rang, reminding him he had history class. Also a reminder that he would be seeing a certain trashmouth during his third period. Quickly slipping his backpack around his shoulders, he was ready to walk up the steps until he heard distant whispering. One voice giggled while the other seemed to have a familiar raspy voice of what a cigarette smoker would sound like.

 

He wasn’t the type to eavesdrop, but something had lured him to find out what it was. Inching closer to the conversation, he was surprised to see the trashmouth with Marissa Quincey. She was pretty, certainly not Richie’s type though. Ben continued to watch with his eyebrows scrunched together, soon eyes widening as he saw Marissa leaning into Richie’s personal bubble, like she was going to kiss him. He was pulled out of the scene with a startled, yet quiet yelp when a firm hand touched his shoulder. It was Mike Hanlon.

 

“You okay?” Mike’s voice laced with concern. The shorter one sighed as he grew calm from the sudden fright, nodding up at the dark skinned male in front of him. Mike rose an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. “Okay well, we should probably start going to third period, yeah?” He suggested.

 

“Yeah, sure let’s uh, go.” Ben mumbled, gripping the straps to his bag, starting to walk up the stairs with his friend. Mike had joined Derry High with them the beginning sophomore year, somehow convincing his grandfather to let him register. He had surprised the Losers on the first day of school, parking his bike along with theirs on the bike racks and asking who had the same homeroom as him, a big bright smile on his lips. It then led to shocked gasps and a group hug that at least lasted five minutes with laughter from everyone else, basking in the happiness of their group of friends being all together. Mike couldn’t remember a better day than that, the day he vowed to be by their sides no matter what.

 

Mike had dropped Ben off at history, walking off to his own class. The sandy haired boy sat in his normal seat at the far right, pulling out his textbook to take notes. Only ten minutes later, Richie Tozier finally made an entrance, casually walking in while the Mr. Simmons gave a disapproving look to him, shaking his head.

 

Richie took his everyday seat next to Ben and gave him his signature smirk, a slight bruise on the side of his neck, most likely a fresh new hickey. Ben sighed in response and set his pencil down, leaning slightly towards the lanky boy. He kept an eye on the Simmons, who was talking about the Civil War and what the causes were, giving a few unfunny jokes about the North and South he only laughed at.

 

“Why haven’t you been talking to Eddie?” He whispers.

 

Richie lolls his head to the side, giving Ben a face like he just asked the most stupidest question ever. “You been living under a rock, Haystack? I’m pretty sure the rest of the Losers know the answer to that question.” He snorted and leaned back in his seat. Ben shook his head. “You know what I mean. Don’t you think it’s time you and Eddie talk? You both clearly need to have a conversation about your relationship. Friendship wise. It’s obvious you both need one another. You keep each other emotionally stable.” Ben says with the slightest bit of hope, silently praying Richie will come to his senses. He and Richie weren’t exactly as close like they were to the others, even after the whole Pennywise ordeal. That didn't mean they didn't care about the other, nonetheless. They were family.

 

“Look, Benny-Boy, I am perfectly fine. Don’t worry about me and wheezy’s relationship, you should start worrying about yours and Marsh’s.” He let out a chuckle. Though it didn’t seem like the normal humor trashmouth usually let on. It was more of a chortle that screamed ‘I’m not in the mood for a pep talk’. Ben would have pointed out how Richie’s smirk went to a sad smile, but instead he turned in his seat, trying to ignore the the warm flow through his cheeks. Ben and Bev's relationship was complicated. They both liked each other, but they just never had the chance to talk about it.

 

Although, it wasn’t as complicated as Stan and Bill’s pining for each other. Stan constantly telling Eddie and Ben how much he liked Bill, and the other way around. No matter how many times they told them both to just ask the other out, they always denied. They were hopeless. Oblivious.

 

The bell for the next period interjected Ben's thoughts yet again, causing him to close his textbook and pack up for lunch. He and Richie walked out together, waiting for Mike to come out from his Astronomy class. They both listened to Mike go on and on about the brought up topic on possibilities of different realities and how if they did exist, only certain things are able to make it through that reality. The three exchanged a look, almost like they knew exactly what they were thinking, agreeing that it could be a theory about Pennywise coming from some demonic realm that is not from this world.

 

The trio stayed silent the rest of the walk to the cafeteria, sitting at their usually table in the corner. Pulling out his lunch, Ben was startled with a thump on the bench next to him. Beverly had sat down with force, clearly showing the feeling of annoyance and defeat. To top it all off, she rested her head in the hollow of her crossed arms. “I think I just failed the math test.” she muttered.

 

Stan came shortly after that statement, placing his tray of food on the table. He rolled his hazel eyes and sat down besides Mike with half his weight, his curls slightly bouncing around his face. “She’s being overdramatic. We studied all day yesterday Bev, you couldn’t have done that bad.” He says with reassurance in his voice, starting to organize the ‘mess’ of food on his tray before eating.

 

It wasn’t anything new. Stan’s OCD hasn’t changed a bit, even after the summer of ‘89, but the Losers didn’t mind it and they never bothered him about it either, they were just glad he became less insecure about the scars around the edges of his face (thanks to Bill).

 

“Stanley,” Beverly started, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know I worked my ass off for this test, but sweetie, I always manage to fail something.” She chuckled, removing her hand and stealing a carrot off his plate, making him shake his head. “Yeah and you always manage to take things without permission.” He snorts.

Richie lets out a roar of laughter. “Oh ho! Stanley gets off with a good one! How’s it feel, Ringwald?” He asks with fake concern and a playful pout. Beverly only rolls her head to face him, flipping him the bird. “Ha fucking Ha trashmouth.”

 

“Oooh, I love when you call me trashmouth. Really turns me on.” He says with a smug look on his face, earning a shove from Bill on his shoulder.

 

“Beep-Beep, R-Rich.” He says, struggling to hide his smile from the remark. Richie only lets out a weak laugh, trying to hide how he looked over Bill’s shoulder for a certain hypochondriac who was absent from Bill’s side. He shrugged it off, assuming he was just running late or probably in the library studying for a test, acting like it’d kill him if he didn’t spend twenty-four seven in a textbook just so he wouldn't fail.

 

“Hey Bill, where’s Eddie?” Mike spoke up, taking a bite from his apple. The rest of the Losers turned their attention to the blue-eyed boy, who had grabbed a brown paper bag from his black, travel backpack.

 

“He d-d-didn’t show up for last puh-period. I f-figured he went to the library.” He said, eyebrows furrowing. “You g-guys haven’t s-s-seen him?” He asked in a quiet voice, attempting hide the concern he had.

 

The Losers all shared a look at each other, except for Richie who only rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Relax, this isn't some Unsolved Mysteries crap. Wheezy’s probably in the library like Bill said, or maybe visiting the nurse for the third time this week. God knows that he can’t last an hour without being in there.” Richie replies, breaking the silence. The Losers immediately shook out of their thoughts and nodded along with him. He was right. There was never a time where Eddie didn’t end up in the nurse’s office.

 

“You’re right.” Beverly finally says, showing a hopeful smile to the rest of the group. “Eddie is perfectly fine.”

 

Ben and Stan both shared a skeptical look for a second, but ended up relaxing their shoulders that seemed to have tensed up during the realization short after. They can agree that Eddie is most likely the one to end up with something bad happening to him. It was a known fact. He was strong and brave, of course, after facing It. But that didn’t change the actuality that he was still prone to have _something_ happen to him. Whether he liked it or not.

 

The tension between them all fell when Richie ended up cracking a joke which caused Ben - yes I know, _Ben_ of all people - to end up laughing so hard, milk came out of his nose. Laughing and howling in stinging pain as Mike struggled to give him napkins while attempting to control his own giggles (which soon erupted into laughter as well).

 

In this moment, it seemed perfect. Even without Eddie. At least that’s what Eddie thought when he watched his best friends through the cafeteria windows. _‘I wonder if they’d be better off without me..’_ Another one of his noxious thoughts came again. He didn’t want to think about it. Think about how if he suddenly didn’t exist, the Losers wouldn’t notice. How if something did happen to him, they wouldn’t worry. They all still had each other, even if the asthmatic boy vanished into thin air.

 

And with that; he wiped away a stray tear, walked out of the campus doors, and went home.

 

-

 

December 10th, 1993

 

It was normal for Eddie to miss a day or two from school, sometimes three. It wasn’t anything unusual or worrisome. So when Eddie didn’t show up for classes on the Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday after their holiday break, the Losers assumed his mother caught him sneezing the wrong way again. They had nothing to worry about, it was _normal._

 

That was until Thursday came. Then Friday, which led to no sign of him around the hangouts on Saturday morning. No prescription pickups Sunday afternoon either. And then a whole week passed by. Now _that_ wasn’t normal.

 

The next Friday rolled around and the usual group of friends met up at the bike racks like every morning. But no bike that belonged to Eddie, safely locked to the metal bars. That was when they really started to worry. Stan and Mike trying to remember the last time Eddie talked to them, Beverly counting spare quarters from her pocket along with Ben and planning to go to the nearest payphone to call his landline. Bill and Richie only stood and watched the panic through their friends. Bill was equally worried though, and always is considering he was basically the leader of the group. But in reality, he was like a parent that seemed to have lost one of their kids in a grocery store, quietly trying to piece together every memory he had on the last time he saw him _without_ trying to freak out.

 

Richie on the other hand, had no expression. Well, okay, he was worried as well, he wasn’t totally heartless. He just had a hard time expressing how he truly felt, causing him to seem like he didn’t care at all.

 

“You know what? Bill, Mike and I will go to his house. Alright? No need to alert the authorities.” Richie suggested as the Losers stopped their talking and looked at both Mike and Bill expectantly. Both boys ended up nodding. “B-Bev, S-Stan and Ben can go to the clinic and ask if E-E-Eddie made any r-recent check-ins..” Bill said nodding his head once again at the three. They glanced at each other and agreed, grabbing their bikes out of the rack again and heading down the street.

 

Bill, Mike and Richie took their own bikes and headed to the Kaspbrak household. Although he wouldn’t admit it, Richie prayed to whatever was up there would listen and let him know that Eddie was okay.

 

Richie actually never thought he’d be walking up to the house again. Never in a hundred years. But this wasn’t about how he felt at the moment. It was about him proving to the Losers that Eddie was perfectly fine, just laying in bed “sick” and reading a book like he always was. Or even listening to his stupid classical music on his walkman, headphones on his head while he used musical therapy to cure his “illnesses”, like his mother told him. He knew very well that Eddie didn’t believe her. Finding out his sickness was bullshit and giving him plastic capsules full of lies.

 

The three knew that if they knocked on the door, the risk of Mrs. Kaspbrak yelling at them to ‘get off my property!’ was a very high chance. So by memory in his heart, Richie led Mike and Bill to the drainpipe near Eddie’s window, gesturing them to climb ahead. Bill was the first to go, cautious of where he put his feet and hands, but made it successfully onto the roof just below Eddie’s window. Up next was Mike, it wasn’t a struggle for him considering the fact he has good upper body strength from working on his grandfather’s farm. Once both were secured on the roof, Richie finally went up, crawling towards the window and sliding it open.

 

Too many memories flooded back into Richie’s mind. All the times he would climb through that same window and expect a hug from his - or was - boyfriend. But the warmth didn’t come. Instead he was met with an empty room, as if it hasn’t been touched in days. A strange chill going through Richie’s spine as he looked around.

 

“H-He’s not here..?” Bill gasped in disbelief, walking towards the bedroom door that was wide open and checking all the rooms on the second floor of the home. Mike followed behind soon after, leaving Richie in the hypochondriac’s room. Richie felt a bucket of ice cold emotions splash down on him, feeling it was too much, he went to follow the two. Until he was almost tripped by an object on the floor. “What the hell-” He exclaimed before realizing what exactly tripped him.

 

The fanny pack the boy loved so dearly. Eddie wouldn’t leave anywhere without it. That was when Richie began to panic. He quickly grabbed the pack from the floor and ran out, turning his head into every room trying to find the other two.

 

“Richie!” He heard Mike yell from down the stairs. Richie hoped they found Eddie, asleep on the couch in his living room watching those dumb animal documentaries about bunnies.

 

Running down the stairs, Richie was met with the both of them standing in the kitchen, eyes blown. Richie’s eyebrows were scrunched up in confusion, finally looking at the direction they were trained at. Totally ignoring the sleeping Sonia, who looked terrible, on the table; they found almost a three dozen stacks of papers. Richie grabbed one, with what he saw he couldn’t contain any of his emotions anymore. His hands trembled as huge and hot tears ran down his pale cheeks. Eddie was _missing._

 

Richie felt his whole world crashing down. The boy who showed him what love could feel like. Eddie Kaspbrak, the one who always wore shorts that never even reached mid-thigh, and sweaters that went to his fingertips. The one whose laugh could light up an entire fucking room, with a smile that greeted him in the mornings when he pressed a kiss to his lips. A boy that could break through the thick shell of a foul mouthed smoker. The only one Richie will ever love was gone and nowhere to be found. And it hurt.

 

Bill saw this and quickly pushed Richie by his shoulders and out the door before having an emotional breakdown. “R-Richie. Rich, l-look at me.” He said trying to get his attention, shaking his shoulders. Richie could only let out a choked sob. He did this. He broke his Eddie and now he was gone. If he hadn’t given him shit, they’d be okay. He would have still been next to him. He would have still been _here._ He felt absolutely numb all over.

 

“E-Eddie is strong and buh-brave. He’s o-okay. W-We’ll find him. I promise.” Bill said with a quiet voice, wrapping his arms around the trembling boy who gripped at the paper.

 

Once Richie was able to steady his breathing, he wiped at his face and inhaled. “I swear if it’s the fucking clown, I’m gonna kill its ass again.” He hissed, straightening himself out and marching to his bike.

 

“Rich, we don’t know if it was Pennywise! It’s been three years!” Mike said, running up to Richie’s bike to stop it from pedaling away. Richie only groaned, anxious from being kept still.

 

“Then where did he go, Mike?! He couldn’t have vanished into thin air!” He yelled, tears threatening to spill from his eyes again. “He’s missing! And I’m gonna find him.” Richie said, furiously rubbing away the tears before pedaling away. He ignored the way they yelled for him. Honestly, he didn’t even process the idea that he doesn't have a plan. He just kept biking.

 

-

 

He ended up at the quarry. His long limbs hanging over the edge, looking down at the water. It reminded him how insistent Eddie was on not jumping in the first time they came. It took almost an hour of convincing before Eddie reluctantly agreed and they jumped together.

 

Richie smiled at the memory, tears filling the brim of his eyes. But soon his smile faded, the burning reminder at the back of his head of how badly he hurt him. How could he say such things to the one person he cared about most. _‘How could I tell him he was worthless..?’ ‘I lost the one thing that actually meant the world to me.’_ But he couldn’t pity himself now. No, no he couldn’t. He was supposed to be planning the perfect rescue. Like how the prince would ride off into the dangers of the world to save the helpless princess. Battling demons and monsters, saving her from her prison and riding off into the sunset, living happily ever after. But sadly, this was no bullshit fantasy where unicorns and dragons existed. This was a life or death situation between both him and Eddie.

 

Even more so, he was never going to be the prince charming. He was more like the evil witch that ruins everything. Everything he’d touch would die, living miserably in a terrible excuse of a home. The thought made him angry, tears of hate and guilt and sorrow spilled down his reddening cheeks again.

 

He went to take his jacket and wipe at his face, only to have his nose nudge against a rectangular like item in the right side pocket. He grimaced and yanked the beaten up cigarette box out of his coat. He hated it. The damned things that were supposed to bring him comfort and relief only made his emotions blow through the roof. He gripped it hard, his knuckles turning white. With all the strength he had, he threw it as far as he could, watching the white box fly down to the bottom, right into the water.

 

“Wow. That was a waste of Winstons.” A voice said with a trail of weak humor.

 

He turned to face the voice. Beverly. Wiping his face with the sleeves of his hoodie, he inhaled, letting out a faint chuckle. “Not worth it anymore, Bev.” He says so quiet, he’s not sure she hears. But she did. Beverly knelt down besides him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, gently rubbing his clad arm. He gave in and leaned into the crook of her neck, mumbling to her how badly he screwed up and how he wished Eddie was still here.

 

“I know.” She said with a shaky voice, sniffling as she leant her head onto his. She caressed her thumb on his shoulder, realizing how much he had been shaking. The redhead glanced down and saw how his lip quivered, attempting to keep his unshed tears to himself. She frowned as she slipped her hand into his hair, massaging his scalp while she hushed him. The gesture made him feel so vulnerable, he couldn’t hold back his emotions any longer. He bawled into her shoulder, his long arms wrapping around her middle. Watching him release everything in front of her was _painful._ She closed her eyes as tears slipped down her freckled cheeks, silently weeping with him.

 

They spent almost half an hour like this, in complete silence. “You remember the time when Eddie bought almost five bottles of sunscreen last summer. He was so sure we’d all get sunburns. Turns out the only one who did was you. He spent all day taking care of you.” Beverly said in a soft, calm voice. Richie let out an exhausted laugh, almost raspy from the amount of crying he did all day.

 

“I told him the only way I’d ever put that stuff on was if he did it for me.” He said with a hoarse voice and a faint smile, remembering how Eddie’s face had turned from a beet red to a look of distaste, calling him disgusting. Beverly let out a breathless chuckle, the memory that sparked Richie and Eddie’s relationship in the first place (next to the events back at Neibolt so long ago, where Richie comforted him by drawing his attention away from a child-eating clown). She inhaled sharply and slowly moved out of their embrace, looking right at his red and blotchy face, eyes magnified by his coke-bottle glasses.

 

“We’re gonna find him, Rich. I can promise you that. We.. we’ll all go back down to the sewers and find him. We beat a demonic clown’s ass before, we can do it again. Right?”

 

He only nodded and smiled up at her, vision blurry by the smudged tears and constant wiping of his sleeves. She tisked at him and removed the bulky glasses, using the hem of her shirt to clean them properly. Placing them back on his face, she ruffled the black mop of curls on top of his head, making him laugh. “Let’s go get our Eds.” She said with a smile, standing up from the ledge and offering her hand to his. He looked up at her and took it, rising from the ground beside her.

 

He wasn’t so scared of facing the clown again after that.

 

-

 

_June 20th, 1992_

 

_“Knock knock.” Beverly said with a smile, her knuckles tapping against the pane of Eddie’s bedroom window. Eddie looked up from the current book he was reading and grinned in return, mumbling a small ‘Hey’._

 

_The redhead climbed through the opening and onto the carpeted floor, slipping off her boots to avoid getting his clean carpet dirty. “Is my little buddy having fun on a Saturday, doing absolutely nothing?” she teased, sitting herself next to the smaller male on the bed._

 

_“I wish.” He sighed and smiled at her, closing his book, (not without folding the corner of his page, of course) and set it on his nightstand. “Richie had to take care of his mom because she overdid it on the, y’know,” He trailed off, bringing his thumb to his lips and sticking out his pinkie, tipping his wrist back a bit to gesture that Richie's mom had been drinking, again._

 

_“Ah, I see. Well, Richie is strong. And you could use a day to yourself, maybe even with a certain red-haired best friend?” She suggested, using her index finger to point at herself. Eddie chuckled lightly and nodded. “Sure.”_

 

_“Great! We should go shopping. I've been dying to get something else to wear than what I already have in my closet.” She sighed in exasperation, rising from the brunette’s bed. Eddie stood up after her, grabbing his fanny pack and clipping it around his waist._

 

_“Let's go.” he smiled._

 

_The mall in Derry wasn't much, only a few department stores, but it was enough. Beverly had dragged him into a regular clothing store, immediately looking through every piece of clothing she could find in the ladies’ area._

 

_“See anything you like, Eddie?” She asked from the other side of a rack, sliding the hangers with different shirts and dresses. Eddie only shrugged, even though she couldn't see. “Not much, a few shirts. Some shorts. But none that really catch my eye.” He said, sitting down on one of the benches and watching the redhead look through the rack of clothes._

 

_Eddie would usually get blank shirts and polos from the ladies’ area, claiming the fabric felt better than whatever itchy torture the men's section provided._

 

_He began glancing around, watching other customers pass by. That was until his eyes locked with a certain piece of clothing. It was a plain white sweater, but he was in love. Eddie immediately went to it, his hands feeling over the threaded piece. He never owned any sweaters because most of them were wool, which made him itch like crazy. But this sweater was cotton, perfect in his eyes._

 

_“Why don't you get it?”_

 

_Eddie snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see a grinning Beverly, holding a few blouses and shirts. Eddie smiled and turned back to the sweater, grabbing it's hanger and going off into the dressing room._

 

_It felt just a good as it looked. He felt giddy on how soft it was, fitting him perfectly. (Even though it was a size or two bigger than him.)_

 

_He walked out of the dressing room and faced Beverly. “How's it look?” he asked, showing a hopeful smile. Beverly let out an audible gasp and beamed. “It looks adorable!” She exclaimed. Eddie’s smile brightened as his hands straightened out the sweater. “You think so?” He mumbled. Beverly nodded and grinned from ear to ear._

 

_“Think Richie will like it?”  He asked with a light blush forming on his cheeks. The redhead chuckled and walked over to him, pinching his nose teasingly. “You know Richie loves anything you wear.” She stated._

 

_“I know, but he’s seen everything I've worn. I want him to love me in this too.” He muttered softly, looking up at his friend with a twinkle in his eye and pink cheeks. Beverly’s heart nearly exploded as she looked at him. She could see the love in his eyes._

 

_She smiled lovingly and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, he’ll love it just as much as he loves you.” She said, her smile never leaving her lips._

 

Beverly remembers seeing him at school the day she last saw him, he was wearing the piece of clothing he adored so much. But she didn't think it'd be the last time she’d see him wearing it.

 

-

 

Convincing the losers wasn’t as hard as they thought they did. They would do anything to save their dear friend. They got prepared, better this time, and headed on their bikes to Neibolt.

 

Once parking their bikes on the side of the entrance, they went inside together. Braver, knowing they would never leave each other’s sides. They found the well, memories and reminders of that summer came into their heads as if it was a warning. Ben absent-mindedly caressed the skin his palm from where the cut once was, their blood oath days after the battle, after almost thinking Beverly was gone for good. ‘ _January embers’._ The poem that replayed in his head, always remembering it by heart. Little did he know, Beverly had it memorized just as much.

 

The rope was still there, Mike pulled it with all his strength, making sure it was still as sturdy as it was before. Beverly went in first, then Richie, followed by Ben and Bill, then Stan and Mike. Walking back into the sewers made Stan freeze, slowly bringing his hand up to the scars on his face, rubbing gently at them. Bill grabbed his hand away from his face and held it tightly in his own. He gave him a reassuring smile, saying in a calm voice, “We’ll be right next to you. _I’ll_ be right next to you. I promise.”

 

Stan gave a shocked face in response, Bill hadn’t stuttered once while saying that. His lips slowly broke into a smile, letting him know that he trusted Bill’s words and giving a gentle squeeze with his hand in his. They let go soon after, walking with the rest of the group throughout the sewers like they did before.

 

They knew their way into the hideout like the back of their hands. Surprisingly easier than it was the first time they did. There was no distractions, no clowns or scary painted ladies coming at them, no paper boats, yellow raincoats or red balloons. It was just eerily quiet, with only the sound of each other’s breathing and grey water sloshing around at their feet to keep them completely sane.

 

Throughout the entire trip, memories continued to replay in their minds individually.

 

_“Fear..”_

 

But yet, the fear lingered.

 

_-_

 

About five minutes of walking and flashing their lights around the tunnels, they made it to the familiar, large door that led into Pennywise’s hideout. They all inhaled and used their strength to push it open.

 

What they found though, was not as expected.

 

“What the fuck..” Richie gasped, running through the door and turning around furiously. “What the fuck?!” He screamed, voice echoing throughout the den. The rest of the gang had nothing to say, mouths hanging open from the shock.

 

“Why is it fucking empty?!”

 

Bill was still speechless. The mountain of torn clothes, toys and knick-knacks, everything. As if there was no trace of Pennywise to begin with. The stage was gone, no floating bodies or even trails of blood. It was like it never existed.

 

“I.. I don’t knuh-know.” He stuttered out, swallowing a huge lump in his throat, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. Everyone was quiet, all frozen on spot, until Stan spoke up finally.

 

“If there’s nothing here.. Then where’s Eddie..?” He said hesitantly, fully aware of any upcoming outbursts from Richie that could happen at any minute. “Eddie is over the fucking rainbow, Stanley. He’s obviously nowhere! There is nothing! We already know that fucking clown is not here anymore, Bowers’ gang couldn’t have done anything because one; Bowers is dead, two; Hockstetter is dead, and Vic and Belch are dead because of Bowers’ psychotic ass! There's no explanation!” Richie cried out. His face held so much pain.

 

They understood how upset he was. Beverly and Bill understood completely. Giving him false hope that they’d find Eddie, that he’d be there. But he wasn’t, and they didn’t find him. He was crushed.

 

The losers left the sewers empty handed, nothing but grief and sorrow. They ended up going to Bill’s, deciding to spend the night. They didn’t slip in a VHS tape of Ghostbusters or The Breakfast Club so Richie can tease Bev on her similar traits to Molly Ringwald. The group of friends only sat around the living room, waiting for someone to break the silence.

 

“Maybe.. he ran away?” Ben suggested. Richie only looked horrified and guilty. “Eddie isn't the type.. where would he go? He had a plan, he wouldn't just change it up for no reason.” Stan said with a serious tone.

 

Richie knew that Stan had only said that so he wouldn't think it was his fault if Eddie did run away. What if he hurt him so much he couldn't handle being in the same state as him? What if he felt so alone he left to find someone who would take care of him unlike Richie? What if Richie did this? No, Eddie was strong. He would never run away from his problems, and he wouldn't have started now. But that only brought a toxic thought to his mind. One that he desperately wished wouldn't be true.

 

“Do you think he’s..” Richie started, but trailed off. As much as he didn’t want to say it, the thought was still there.

 

“No.” Mike suddenly said, a little too loudly. “Don’t think that way. He’s just a little.. Lost.” He said, nodding his head. Stan and Bill agreed, while Ben nodded once. Beverly gave Richie a smile that said a meaningful apology as she rested her hand on his knee, giving a slight squeeze.

 

It took Richie a good few minutes before blinking back his tears, stinging his eyes very lightly. He inhaled and accepted it, looking up at the group, sighing.

 

“Yeah.. He’s Lost.”

 

-

 

December 20th, 1993

 

_“R-Richie..”_

 

_“Richie help me..” He heard a voice whimper out through the darkness. Where was he? It was dark and cold, and he felt scared. But it wasn’t his emotions, he thought. He felt as if he could feel someone else’s._

 

_“Hello..?” He called out, waiting for a response from the person out in the pitch black void._

 

_“Help me please..!” He heard a choked sob. They sounded so familiar._

 

_“Who’s there?” Richie said hesitantly, walking, or what seemed like walking, towards the trembling and frightened voice._

 

_“I can’t find my inhaler, Rich..” They whimpered out again._

 

_Eddie. Richie’s eyes widened in the darkness and broke into a sprint towards him. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. Was all that ran through his mind, trying to focus on his voice, the voice that soon faded into silence._

 

_“Eds, I can’t hear you anymore. I’m here, Eddie! Tell me where you are!” He yelled for him. ‘Please say something. Do anything.’ But nothing. No response._

 

_“Eddie, I’m here!” He said, almost sounding like a plea. He waited for a reply, and the emotions he felt suddenly stopped. That was when he heard a snarl, something inhuman._

 

_“E-Eddie..?” He called out shakily, his voice trailing with fear before being startled awake._

 

Richie woke up in a cold sweat. His breathing unsteady and tears in his eyes. Sighing in relief, he placed his face in his hands and rubbed at his tired eyes. That was the fifth nightmare he’s had this month. After Eddie was known as missing, finding the Pennywise hideout empty like nothing had been there, and now a recurring nightmare that seemed to come two to three times a week.

 

It had been 27 days, Richie would be exact if you asked him, since Eddie had gone missing without a trace. He would tell you that each day caused a crack in his heart, slowly breaking it piece by piece. Every second, minute, and hour Richie spent without the presence of the one he loved so dearly brought tears to his brown eyes. But he’d never shed them, thinking crying wouldn’t bring him back.

 

Richie always had a routine ever since. Wake up at exactly six a.m. and search for Eddie around town. At seven thirty, he would arrive at school and spend those seven hours with no emotion, barely paying attention to the lessons. Once three o’clock hit, he’d grab his bike and go searching again, sometimes accompanied by one of the Losers (and if he was lucky that no one was busy, then they all would join him). Around sundown he’d stop his searching and head home, skillfully avoiding his parents and heading to his room. He had learned that writing a letter to him everyday after searching helped him cope just a little bit.

 

Although he had a routine for everything, he didn’t have a routine for sleep. Every night his head hit the pillow, sometimes he’d be met with dreams of Eddie that made him wake up with tears, but the other times he’d wake up from the same nightmare.

 

Glancing at his clock it read ‘2:39 a.m.’. He had slept an hour longer than the last time. He thought of that as an improvement, considering he wrote a letter to Eddie on how the day he spent wasn’t as terrible as any other day. Maybe it was a good thing, right?

 

Richie slipped his thick-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, opening his nightstand drawer and groped around inside, finally grabbing what he was looking for. It was Eddie’s fanny pack. He held the waist-bag in his hands and caressed his thumb over the tag on the side. Richie smiled at the neat handwriting just under it, tracing over the letters of ‘Eddie Kaspbrak’ that was faded from the overuse.

 

He slowly brought his long fingers to the zipper and opened the pocket. He rummaged through the items inside and grabbed a pill box, filled with fake capsules of different colors. He placed it back inside and grabbed a handful of band-aids that were neatly put together and wrapped with a rubber band. ‘Classic Eds’ he thought. The next thing he grabbed was a little plastic container, it had a bunch of screws with a tiny bottle of glue and screw driver. Richie stared at the kit in his hands. It was supplies to glasses. He knew Eddie owned bifocals, but he also knew they contained a different kind of screw. These screws belonged to a certain type of coke-bottle glasses due to the thick lenses, the type of glasses that belonged to a certain Richie Tozier.

 

The curly haired boy breathed deeply, placing the container back into the pack while he rummaged around again. He found simple things like a nail clipper, anti-bacterial wipes, neosporin, a small container for ibuprofen, hand-sanitizer, chapstick, his house keys, and lastly, the inhaler. He eyed the medicine filled pump and read the prescription sticker, then opening the cap, he hesitantly brought the aspirator to his lips.

 

He knew if Eddie saw this, he’d immediately yank it from him and scold him about the millions of germs in a human mouth being transferred onto the object. Richie pressed down on the pump and inhaled, feeling the cool mist flow down into his lungs. It had a weird taste to it, a taste that would make his face twist in disgust; like _battery acid_. But it didn’t, he savored the odd taste of the mist, also tasting a faint strawberry flavor, knowing it was from the chapstick Eddie constantly put on and from the hundreds of kisses he gave him, always tasting the fruitiness.

 

Richie didn’t have asthma. His lungs worked perfectly fine, but taking the puff from the inhaler made him breathe a little better. Maybe it was the idea of Eddie using it to bring his own burning lungs to a sweet relief of medicine flavored air to help him breathe correctly. Or maybe it was Richie’s emotions beginning to choke him, and he convinced himself that the inhaler helped open his airways from the compressing feeling in his chest. He didn’t know which was the correct answer, but he was fine with that.

 

Richie closed his eyes and gently gripped at the plastic object in his hand, careful not to crack it. After a moment, he opened eyes just a bit and placed the pack back into the drawer, silently closing it. He kept the inhaler in his hand and laid back down.

 

His thumb rubbed over the palm sized item, making small circles. It gave his fidgety hands something to do while he attempted to relax, eyes going heavy and soon drifting off.

 

It was the first time, in a very long time, he had a decent sleep.

 

-

 

His dreams were either wonderful fantasies where he and Eddie never broke up, happily attached by the hip twenty-four seven while Africa by Toto played in the background for some odd reason. Some were just memories playing back from joy filled moments Richie had with him.

 

Such as the time when they were cuddled up in Richie's bedroom one summer night, with a mixtape playing quietly in the room from his stereo. Eddie was reading a book Richie couldn't quite remember the title of, while sitting curled up in his lap, leaning onto the taller boy’s chest. Richie’s long fingers toying with the other’s curls by his ears and neck.

 

_“Rich?” Eddie said, breaking the comfortable silence around them. Richie only hummed in response, glancing down at the hypochondriac._

 

_Eddie scrunched his nose, a habit that showed he was thinking, while folding a corner from his book and closing it. “Do you ever think about what you'll do in the future?” he asked, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth snugly. Richie looked at the ceiling in thought, his hands moving to his boyfriend's middle._

 

_“‘Dunno. Thought your sweet mom would take me in after you run off to college. That way she can have me all to herself.” Richie said with a smirk, laughing after Eddie scoffed and shoved at his shoulder._

 

_“I'm being serious, you sicko.” Eddie replied, trying to hide his smile. Richie only sighed and looked at him through his coke-bottle glasses, getting lost in his eyes like he always did. “To be honest, Eds, I have no idea. But, why should we worry right now? We still got two years.” The smaller of the two grimaced at the nickname, but his expression softened while he fired back with no heat. “Don't call me that, trashmouth. I know it's a little early to talk about it. But, it's not too early either. Two years can go by very fast, y’know.” he stated._

 

_He was quiet after a while, sitting up from Richie's lap and crossing his legs. “I've already told you my plan. Going to New York and trying my best to make a living there. But you haven't told me your plan.” The last sentence was spoken like a whisper, but Richie still heard. His chest tightened when he saw the other boy's eyes grow sad and confused._

 

_“Eddie, baby, my plan is wherever you are,” He started, gently placing his semi-large hands on his boyfriend's cheeks. Eddie looked up at him, waiting for him to continue. “You already know I want to get out of this shitty town, but I'm not leaving without you. And you know that too. So as soon as you get out of here, I'll follow you to wherever you end up. If it's New York or even Switzerland. I'd follow you to the ends of the earth.”_

 

_Eddie's eyes filled with tears, but he didn't seem sad. In fact, he looked rather happy, considering the growing smile on his lips. He sniffed softly and inhaled a shaky breath. “Promise?”_

 

_Richie only nodded and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to his forehead, leaning his head against it afterward. “I promise.”_

 

-

 

“Rich.”

 

“Richie.”

 

Richie knew that voice. He knew it. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. He only grumbled sleepily, trying to give the person a hint.

 

“Rich. Baby..” They cooed, then it finally hit him. _Eddie,_ he thought. It wasn’t be real. Eddie wasn’t there. He couldn’t be. Richie wanted to open his eyes, but was terrified that he would be met with nothing there. _It’s a dream. Yeah.. a dream._ Richie clenched his eyes shut, furrowing deeper into his pillow. “C’mon, Rich.” Eddie pressed, squeezing his shoulder.

 

“No.” He mumbled into the fabric of his pillowcase. “If I wake up you won’t be there.” He said, almost like a whimper. Eddie only chuckled, giving Richie the fluttery feeling in his stomach. Oh, how he missed that bubbly laughter. He suddenly felt fingers carding through his hair, the tips of the digits pushing his bangs from his forehead. It all felt too real, he couldn’t wake up. He didn’t _want_ to.

 

“Can’t I just stay here..?” Richie asked. The other boy hummed in response, still threading his thin fingers through the curly locks. “You could. But, then you wouldn’t see me.” He said teasingly. Richie could hear the smile in his voice. He felt so at peace during the moment, leaning into the hand grooming him. “You won’t be there if I open my eyes.” He muttered.

 

Eddie was quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to open your eyes if you don’t want to. But, if you don’t you won’t see me again, Rich.” He spoke so soft, so calm. “I don’t need to see you. I can hear your beautiful voice for the rest of my life. I don’t care.” Richie replied, reaching up to hold his wrist, nuzzling his nose into the skin and inhaling his scent (vanilla with a faint smell of hand-sanitizer). Eddie laughed once more and held his hand in place.

 

“I love you, Eds..” He murmured with a trail of a whine in his throat.

 

The smaller boy leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Richie’s chapped lips. The kiss had no movement, but Richie could feel every emotion in it. Eddie pulled back shortly after, causing Richie to chase his lips. It was over too soon, Richie couldn’t savor enough, but he felt the lips travel to his ear, hearing Eddie’s soft breathing.

 

“Come find me, Richie.” He whispered. _Wait!_

 

“Eddie!” He cried.

 

And then he sat up, finally opening his eyes.

 

But nothing was there.

 

-

 

December 20th, 1993

 

Waking up was just as hard as sleeping for Richie. The heavy feeling of just wanting to lay in his bed hoping that maybe Eddie would barge in and say to hurry up before they were late. But he knew deep down that it wouldn't happen.

 

Huffing out a sigh, he got up from his bed and began getting ready for hell, in other words, school. If it was up to Richie, he'd skip, just to spend more time trying to find his boyfr- _Eddie._ But he knew that going to school is what Eddie would have wanted, so reluctantly, he went.

 

Once he was fully dressed, not even bothering to try and brush the mess he called hair on his head, he grabbed the inhaler off his bed and slipped it into his pocket. Having Eddie's inhaler nearby helped him keep going in a way, its presence encouraged him to keep trying. _Eddie needs it_ , he'd say to himself, just in case, and nothing was going to rip it from his hands.

 

Throughout the day he didn't pay attention. He'd still do his schoolwork and participate, but he never bothered to listen to the lessons. While staring blankly at his finished worksheet of the day, he could feel a pair of eyes drilling into his skull. He glanced to his side and was met with a blonde and dull, blue eyes. Richie made out with this chick once, barely even remembered her name due to him probably being too high or drunk to care. He inhaled deeply and let out a long and annoyed sigh through his nose, finding it irritating when she practically eye-fucked him.

 

He didn't want a needy blonde who wanted to get into his pants. He wanted a small, brown haired hypochondriac with killer brown eyes that could probably cure diseases and end all depression (at least in his brain they did).

 

Richie heard the school bell trilling for next period and thanked god for it. He didn't want to be in that class any longer, fearing that if he did he would snap, call a ‘fuck it’ and leave. He gathered his things and threw them into his bag without any care and left.

 

He went to his locker and began grabbing things he needed for his next class, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. The tall male turned around to see the blonde chick from earlier, gnawing at her bottom lip.

 

“Hey. Remember me? Marissa, from Susan Johansen’s party?” she mumbled with a shy smile.

 

Richie did his best not to groan, but instead he gave a smile that was obviously fake yet the girl didn't notice. She let out a giggle and reached to grab his hand. “I just wanted to.. talk about what we had at the party, and our little session in the hallway a couple weeks ago..” she trailed off, causing Richie to raise an eyebrow and shift on his feet.

 

“Anyways.. I wanted to ask you out. If you wanted to..?” She asked with a hopeful grin, slowly trying to lace her fingers with his. Richie wanted to throw up. Only his Eddie was allowed to hold his hand. Only his Eds was enough for him, not some girl he made a mistake with just because he had too much to drink.

 

“I'm taken.” He said with no hesitation, pulling his hand back away from hers. Her hands felt too bony and cold. Eddie's hands were perfectly warm and soft, always skillfully calming Richie by carding them through his dark locks, giving him peace. She didn't have that ability, and he didn't want to give her the chance to try.

 

He watched her reaction change to confusion. “I've never seen you with anyone. You don't need to lie.” She said with a frown and a low grumble in her voice, crossing her arms like a toddler were about to start a tantrum.

 

Now she was just getting him pissed off. “I. Am. Taken.” He hissed through his teeth. “His name is Eddie Kaspbrak, and if you think I'd choose you over him then you must be out of your damn mind.”

 

“You're an asshole.” She snarled, stomping away from him.

 

“And you're a bitch.” He said loudly, making sure she heard. It took everything in his being to not chase after her and pull her by her hair. Luckily, she was out of sight before he could change his mind.

 

Just as he turned around, he was met with Mike Hanlon.

 

Richie sighed as his eyes drifted to the tiled floor beneath him. “You saw, huh?” He didn't see it, but Mike nodded, walking towards him and wrapping a strong arm around Richie’s shoulders.

 

“Marissa Quincey was never really a nice girl, anyways.” Mike said with a slight teasing tone.

 

The lanky male chuckled softly, looking up to give Mike a half smile. “A real bitch.” Mike patted his hand on his shoulder and nodded again.

 

“Wanna talk about what happened back there? I.. know the perfect place to scream.”

 

This time, Richie was the one to nod.

 

-

 

Mike Hanlon. The greatest friend anyone could ever ask for. The losers never saw him by the color of his skin, they never judged him from when they first met. They saw the kind heart in the boy, to him, the losers were his soulmates. Nothing would tear him from them, and vice versa. When Eddie went missing, Mike didn’t want to believe it at first.

 

When they came back from the shocking discovery in the sewers, he didn’t want to believe it either. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. He wasn’t sure how to comfort Richie in this situation, Richie was like a lone wolf when it came to certain things. Like the time he and the Losers got him to admit his bad homelife.

 

Now, he was going to try his best to help Richie. After everything that happened, he knew Richie would need all the support he could get. He had the chance to try and help his friend, to get him to come back with the Losers so they can get through it with him together.

 

It broke his heart seeing his best friends, his _family_ , going through such hard times. He could still remember the day he found Eddie in the alleyway next to the pharmacy, sobbing his eyes out.

 

_September 26th, 1990_

 

_“Eddie?” Mike called out, parking his bike next to the brick wall and rushing to the small boy._

 

_Eddie sniffled and quickly wiped at his eyes and fixing his hair in attempt to look decent. He took a deep breath as Mike approached him. “H-Hey, Mike.” He whispered with a smile, trying to hide the fact that he was crying at all._

 

_Mike knew he was terrible at hiding his emotions, especially how Eddie acts when he gets jealous over Richie not giving him enough attention. Sometimes he would ignore them if they weren’t serious, but right now Eddie needed some support. The taller male kneeled down in front of Eddie and ruffled his hair._

 

_“C’mon bud, tell me what’s up.” He said with a small smile, waiting patiently for a response._

 

_Eddie chewed on his lip, the skin going red and swollen from the constant biting. “W-well.. you see.. Th-there’s this..” He blubbered, eyes filling with tears again. Mike ended up sitting next to him and throwing an arm over his shoulder. Eddie wiped at his eyes again and attempted to speak again. “M-my medication was never real.. Everything my mom gave me were lies and she still forced me to get these stupid.. stupid..” He paused, muttering to find the right words._

 

_“Gazebos!” He finally screeched out, slamming the bottle of pills onto the ground. Although it didn’t make sense,(since the proper word for the medication was ‘placebo’ and not ‘gazebo’) Mike didn’t question him, feeling that he didn’t want to feed annoyance and anger into the boy who could easily become a ball of pure fire._

 

_Eddie inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, gripping at the plastic pill bottle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” He mumbled, sniffling quietly. Mike shook his head and continued to smile at him. “Don’t worry about it. We all need to scream sometimes.” He lightly teased, letting out a chuckle._

 

_Eddie laughed, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Thank you for sitting with me.” He said and smiled at him. Mike shrugged and squeezed his shoulder. “I didn’t do much, though.” He stated._

 

_“I know. But, you stayed and listened. Even if it wasn’t much to listen to.” Eddie said and gave him a side hug. Mike hugged him back and started to stand up, holding his hand out to the hypochondriac. The other boy took it and was pulled to his feet. “I should get going now. If I’m out for too long, my mom would send a search party throughout Derry.” He snickered, dusting off his shorts._

 

_“No problem.” Mike said, grabbing ahold of his bike and climbed onto it. “Hey Eds?” He asked, turning towards the other._

 

_Eddie chuckled lightly. “I see Richie is rubbing off on you,” He whispered to himself. “What is it Mike?” He asked, raising an eyebrow._

 

_Mike took a second to think about how to put his words together, pursing his lips. He finally responded with a grin, “If you ever need to talk to someone. Or even someone to scream with,” He started with a snicker. “I’m always here.” Then he finished, putting his feet onto the pedals and biking off, leaving the asthmatic boy at the entrance of the alley._

 

_“Thanks, Mike.” Eddie mumbled softly._

 

-

 

_October 7th, 1993_

 

_“What did you get for eight and eleven?” Richie asked, looking over his boyfriend’s shoulder. They were doing homework for English, and Richie had been trying to get answers from Eddie for the whole time he was there. Eddie only nudged him away, closing his book to hide his answers. “No, I am not letting you copy off me again, Rich.” He said, eyeing him down._

 

_Richie let out a dramatic whimper and puckered out his bottom lip. “C’mon babe, you gotta let me copy. Just this once?” He begged. Richie hated English, he was passing of course, but he was just extremely lazy._

 

_“Absolutely not. You can’t keep copying from me.” Eddie said, turning his shoulder and continuing to answer the questions. Richie made a loud groan, standing up from Eddie’s desk chair and making his way to his bed. Eddie looked over his shoulder again to see what he was up to. Before he could even speak, he was rolled over with his homework shoved to the side. “What the-” He was cut off by Richie plopping himself on top of him, his face buried into his tummy._

 

_Eddie furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but soon his face gaped in horror, knowing exactly what he was up to. “Richie.” He said sternly. “No.”_

 

_The taller boy only smirked, and spoke, muffled against him. “Richie, yes.” He said before he gripped onto his boyfriend’s waist and began to blow intense raspberries onto his stomach. Eddie began shrieking in laughter, his legs flailing underneath him as he tried to squirm away. Richie only held onto him tighter, continuing to blow on him._

 

_Eddie began to wheeze out laughs, his hands attempting to shove at his boyfriend’s shoulders, but his strength gave out and he fell limp. “R-Richie..! G-Get off! I swear you-” He spoke between laughs._

 

_“I’ll stop if you give me the answers to eight and eleven.” He said, lifting his head up for a moment only to begin blowing raspberries on him again. It took Eddie a full minute before he finally gave up._

 

_“Alright! A-Alright!” he wheezed, finally shoving him off. Richie retreated and let go of him, resting his chin on his stomach and watching Eddie’s chest heave to even his breathing. He waited a moment before mumbling, “Need your inhaler, Eds?” He asked. Eddie shook his head and breathed out, “Don’t call me Eds.” He said, looking down at Richie, not even trying to hide his smile._

 

_Richie smirked again, leaning up to press his chapped lips against Eddie’s soft ones, humming in content. “I love you.” He whispered against his mouth, pulling back soon after. He could see the blush soon spread over his cheeks, feeling Eddie’s hands on the sides of his face and pulling him back in for another kiss._

 

_“I love you too, trashmouth.”_

 

If you told Richie that a month later he and Eddie would break up over a mistake he made, he'd call you a liar and that he’d never hurt him. But, sadly it didn't work like that.

 

-

 

Screaming. All you could hear was the echoed screams Richie let out in the quarry, the sound bouncing off the cliffs. They were filled with anger, grief, guilt, and sadness. Mike sat on the side, watching his friend as he let it all out.

 

-

 

December 27th, 1993

 

The Losers of course noticed Richie’s behavior for the past two months. They tried to get him out of his house or to at least take a break from his searching. Each of them barely saw him throughout their entire winter break. Beverly says to give him time to have some closure. Mike says that he needs to have a nice, friendly interrogation. Ben suggests he’d see a specialist. But, Stan and Bill both disagreed to all of those.

 

“We can’t pressure him into anything, but we can’t leave him alone to deal with this either, guys.” Stan says sternly. They were all currently at Bill’s, Richie absent like always. ‘Yeah, sure, I’ll try to be there.’ He said, but now he was two hours late and they officially gave up on hope of him showing up.

 

“S-Stan’s right. The b-best we can do fuh-for R-Richie is to be there for him.” Bill replied with the usual stutter.

 

“I just feel useless. We should be _doing something._ It’s not fair to him that he’s out there from dawn ‘till dusk, searching for Eddie in the exact same locations and running around like a headless chicken.” Beverly cuts in, gesturing her hand towards the door.

 

“Well what is there to do, Bev? The police say the same thing every time we go to the station. They’ll handle it, they’ll make search parties, they’ll do their _best_. But what have they done? Absolutely nothing!” Mike says raising his hands up in frustration.

 

“Then we’ll do it ourselves.” Ben says quietly, eyes staring at nothing. They knew that look, he thought of something that could be useful. The Losers’ eyes all focus on him, waiting for an explanation.

 

“What is it, Ben?” Stan asks, leaning towards him. Ben nods his head and and mumbles to himself. “I read this article in the library, it happened a couple years ago. It might be helpful.” He says quickly, leaving the rest of them raising an eyebrow.

 

“What are you tal-”

 

“I’m going to the library,” He says, grabbing his backpack and scrambling to his feet, heading to the door. “Meet me at the quarry tomorrow at ten a.m.!” He yells on his way out, closing the door with slight force.

 

The group looked at each other, silently asking what had just happened. Bill and Stan eyed each other and furrowed their eyebrows. “That was probably the strangest thing I’ve ever seen Ben do.” Stan admitted. Bill nodded his head in agreement. “S-same here..” He mumbled, letting his shoulders rest against Stan’s.

 

Stan tried to hide the light pink blush on his cheeks, warmth spreading all over once he felt the other boy rest against him. He cleared his throat and spoke again, “Must be serious.” He suggested.

 

“Well in the meantime, what are we gonna do about Richie?” Mike asked, leaning his head back against the arm of the couch in Bill’s living room.

 

“Richie thinks that Eddie could pop up at anywhere at any moment. Constantly referring to the quarry and barrens. I had to convince him that going to Neibolt by himself was dangerous, so that was marked off his list.” Beverly says, biting her bottom lip in concern. “It’s the fact that he’d be willing to go into Neibolt _alone_ is what’s got me even more worried for his condition. Even if Pennywise is MIA.” She continued, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, tugging at a loose thread.

 

“We’re all worried, Bev. Eddie is missing, and Richie is not even Richie anymore. When was the last time he cracked an actual joke? It was probably the day we _all_ saw Eddie last.” Mike sighed, rubbing his temples. He was tired, tired of losing friends. All he wanted was for all of the Losers to be together again, their friendship and love holding each other in place like glue. But now they were falling apart.

 

The four were quiet, the room filled with only the sounds of their breathing. Until the silence was broken with the sound of sniffling. Their heads snapped up at the sudden noise, eyes falling onto Stan who was visibly shaking.

 

“I miss them. Eddie and Richie. Sure, Richie is physically here, b-but he’s not _here._ ” He blubbers out, trying not to break down in front of his friends. A tear slipped down his cheeks and his bottom lip began to quiver. “I know I don’t show it, but I love that idiot and his stupid jokes.” He chuckled sadly. “But this is slowly killing him inside.”

 

Then he began to weep, bringing his knees close to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. The scene in front of Bill made his eyesight go blurry with tears, but he didn’t shed them. Instead he only scooted closer to the boy and brought him close to his chest, hugging him gently. He pressed his face into his curly hair, allowing him to cry quietly.

 

A few minutes had had passed before Beverly stood from where she was sitting and sat on the other side of Stan, wrapping her arms around him in a hug as well. That soon led to Mike hugging the three from behind. The way they comforted each other was what proved their closeness and compassion in their group of friends.

 

That would never change.

 

-

 

Ben and Eddie’s friendship had always been known. There was always a soft spot for the hypochondriac that Ben always had. He always appreciated him after Eddie patched him up that summer day after being attacked by Bowers’ gang. They always helped each other when they needed it. Such as the day Eddie came to Ben that one holiday, begging for help..

 

_February 14th, 1993_

 

_“Ben! I fucked up so bad!” Eddie cried._

 

_Ben had been in his room, working on a history project when the small boy came bursting into his room. He turned to the other with confusion and concern on his face. “What happened?” He asked._

 

 _Eddie sat himself on top of Ben's desk with pout on his lips. “I forgot today was Valentine's day.. God, the look on Richie's face_ killed _me, Ben! He got me a leather bracelet with our initials engraved into it. I didn't get him anything!” Eddie whined, grabbing the box from his pocket to open and look at the piece of jewelry._

 

_“You have to help me..” He begged._

 

_Ben felt bad. He knew Eddie had been going through a lot about school, trying to maintain a perfect GPA. He understood how the holiday could have slipped his mind. That was when he thought of an idea._

 

_“Well, some gifts don't need a price tag.” Ben offered, giving Eddie a hopeful smile. Eddie only looked confused, desperate for an answer._

 

_“What do you mean?” Eddie asked._

 

_“Well, why don't I help you make a poem, and you can tell it to him.” Ben grinned, grabbing a piece of lined paper and a pen. Eddie thought it was brilliant, he can say what he feels in a poem. Ben always wrote poems for Bev, and she loved each one. The only problem was he didn't know how to make insightful poems, the best he could do was rhyme. So that's what he did._

 

_After half an hour of grammar checks and correct vocabulary, Eddie felt his poem was perfect. The writing was rushed, and there were a lot of crossed out words from mistakes or from not making sense, but he ignored it, wanting to get to Richie as soon as possible before Valentine's Day was over. He grinned from ear to ear, pulling Ben in for a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek, causing the sandy haired teen to have a light blush. “Thank you so much! I owe you my life!” He exclaimed, running out of his friend’s room. Ben laughed and bid him good luck as the boy left in a hurry._

 

_-_

 

_Eddie found Richie, Bev, and Bill in their favorite diner. It was always a place for the three to talk, sometimes the Losers would join them. Eddie was out of breath as he approached the entrance, grabbing his inhaler from his fanny pack, taking a puff and walked inside. He felt his heart pounding out of his chest as he saw the three in their usual booth, chatting away. The small asthmatic slowly walked towards them, stopping right in front of the table. They immediately stopped their conversation and eyed the boy in front of them carefully. Eddie took a deep inhale as he took the folded piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolding it with shaky hands. Richie rose an eyebrow, turning his body to face his boyfriend. “Eds-”_

 

 _“I hate your jokes about my mother,_   
_But I'll still care about you like no other_

 _I hate it when you call me Eds,_   
_Yet I loved you when you trashed my meds_

_Although we don't agree most of the time, I'm still glad to call you mine, so,”_

 

_Eddie paused, his breath trembling as tears pricked in his eyes. He cleared his throat and continued._

_“Instead of saying things you flaw, I'll tell you what makes me at awe_

_I love your bulky glasses, I love when you wait after my classes._

_I love your dark and messy hair, I love when you take me everywhere._

_I know you love me, and there's no place I'd rather be_

_So, here is what I'll say, on February 14th, Valentine's day,”_

 

_He glanced to look at Richie, seeing that he too had tears in his eyes. He chewed his lip, feeling warmth in his cheeks and kept going._

_“I don't know what our future will hold, but I will repeat what you have told_

_I love you with all my heart,_   
_almost as much as Bill loves art_

_You must know I hold you dear, so I would appreciate it if you hear_

_My love for you will never fade_   
_because you are something heaven made_

 _I love you, Richie Tozier_ _  
_ _For now and forever.” He finished, finally looking up._

 

_His eyes widened at the sight of Richie. Tears pouring down his face as he tried to wipe them, his face blotchy and red, but he didn't say anything. He was about to make a joke on Richie being actually speechless, but before he could, Richie stood up from the booth and pulled Eddie against his chest into a hug._

 

_Eddie gasped softly, tears filling his eyes again as he hugged back, tucking his head under his chin. After a moment, Richie pulled back and ran a hand through Eddie's neat hair. “God, you are so fucking cheesy.” He teased, earning a laugh out of the shorter boy._

 

_“I had to let you know.. that nobody has loved anybody as much as I love you.” He said with a smile, gripping at Richie’s shirt to keep him grounded._

 

_Richie was absolutely smitten, there was no denying that he had heart eyes on Eddie. He leant forward to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips, but was rudely interrupted._

 

_“Are y-you going to t-tell me why I was m-mentioned in yuh-your p-p-poem?” Bill asked from where he sat._

 

_Richie gave him his middle finger, Eddie laughed and answered for him. “Shut up, Bill. I need to kiss my boyfriend to make up for the shitty thing I did.” He said, craning his neck upwards as Richie continued to lean in for a kiss, sighing in content as he felt his lips against his._

 

Richie eyed the folded paper, gently opening it and admiring Eddie's handwriting. It was rushed, but still neater than his own. He smiled as he read the poem over and over again, his brown eyes filling with hot tears.

 

The droplets fell from his eyes as he held the leather bracelet he had given Eddie. His fingers ran over the engraved letters while he let out a sob.

 

He would never forgive himself for hurting Eddie so badly.

 

-

 

December 28th, 1993

 

As planned, apparently, they all met up at the quarry at ten. Without Richie, of course. They had decided if they had told him, he would be shaken up about the sudden bring up about Eddie and how there would probably be a solution on how to find him.

 

Mike, Beverly, Bill and Stan sat around on the rocks bundled up in scarves and coats, waiting for Ben’s arrival. They talked about little things, like the amount of days they had before their winter break came to an end. They had a week and six days.

 

Their eyes shot up once they heard a bike collapsing on the ground and shoes crunching on the dead leaves. “Sorry I’m late!” He said, quickly walking towards the group.

 

“‘s fine Ben, but can you explain why we’re out here in the cold and not at Bill’s or something?” Beverly asked, her nose red from the brisk and icy air.

 

“Because, if anyone found out it’d probably be bad, if word got out.” He said hesitantly. Placing his bag down on the ground, he began digging around inside pulling out a handful of papers inside a manila folder. “Now these,” He held them up. “These may have our answers. We can’t talk about it outloud, but this could help us.” He said handing the folder to Bill, with Stan leaning over his shoulder to read. Beverly and Mike soon do the same, eyes widening at the information.

 

“Wow..” Bev gasped, taking in the information as she flipped through the rest of the papers. “How’d you even get these, Ben?” She asked, looking up at him.

 

“Well, when they were first released, I read them thinking it was just a myth or just a fantasy, a phenomenon even. But now I realized that this was almost the same situation we have. When I first went to the library yesterday, the article was gone. I asked the librarian and she said it was because they filed it all as fake. I actually, snuck into the back room and did some searching.” He said bashfully, putting his hands into his coat pockets. “The neighboring states that received the same information were paid to stay quiet. Pennsylvania, Kansas, Michigan, and right here in Maine.” Ben explained in a quickened voice, trying to get all the information out. “They had to collect all the evidence before it reached New York.”

 

“Isn’t New York before us?” Mike asked.

 

“You're right, but to certain news companies, they send lesser known information about different state issues or content to other states instead of well known places like New York, Florida, California and so on, just because they think it wouldn't be that ‘interesting’. But, if it was a big talk, then they'd send the news out to those states.” Ben replied.

 

The group was in complete shock. “I remember on the news, it was a year or two ago, but an event had happened. Something about a spill, but it didn’t make sense.” Beverly said with a skeptical voice.

 

“W-we.. we have to tell R-Richie.” Bill said, gathering the papers back in the folder and handing it to Ben, standing up and collecting his bike. “L-let’s go.”

 

-

 

“Richie! Open up!” Beverly yelled through the door, pounding on it with half of her strength. She knew it was safe. His dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway and his mom was always passed out on the couch from too much alcohol, nothing would wake her up.

 

She was about to pound on the door again before Richie opened it. “Thank god, we need to talk.” She said hurriedly as she gestured to the Losers on the side of the road. “It’s important and we don’t have enough time.”

 

Richie sighed and shook his head. “I can’t, Bev. It’s three o’clock. I’m busy.” He said not meeting her gaze. She groaned, not in annoyance, but because she felt for him.She wound up grabbing his arm and dragging him to his bike by the porch steps. “I’m not playing around with you, dipshit. Get on your bike, right now. We’re going to Bill’s. It’ll only take like thirty minutes.” She said, holding his bike up to him. Richie, looked at her and back at the Losers, glancing around as he thought it over. He sighed and closed his eyes.

 

“Fine.” He mumbled, taking his bike and hopping on. The Losers began biking off, Richie following behind.

 

Once they were in Bill’s room, door locked and curtains shut, they sat Richie down on the bed and gave him the folder filled with papers. They all anxiously waited for a response, which was probably soon due to his eyebrows knitting together more after each paper he looked at. “Where’d you get these..?” He finally asked, his voice was stern and quiet while his eyes continued to stare down at the now scattered papers.

 

“Ben said they were hidden in the library.” Bev answered in a quiet voice.

 

The Losers nodded their heads and eyed Richie carefully. The curly haired boy gripped the papers in his hands and set them down, reaching into his hoodie pocket and grabbing a worn out folded paper. He carefully unfolded it and looked at the picture. It was the missing poster for Eddie.

 

“When he was still here, I promised that I’d follow him to the ends of the earth. Later on, I told him that if I failed.. I’d do anything to make it better.” He started, silently sniffling and blinking back his tears. “And.. if they really do have answers. Or even an explanation on what happened to him. Then.. let’s just hope they can help bring Eddie home.” He finished, looking up at the Losers with reddened cheeks and tears in his eyes.

 

Bill stood up and grabbed a thick book from his desk, most likely a phone book. He sat next to Richie and opened it on his lap, flipping through the pages. “I-N.., I-N.. H-Here.” He mumbled to himself and grabbed his landline from his nightstand, dialing the numbers on it. The line rang for a couple of seconds, finally answering. “H-Hello, I’m looking for the ph-phone number to uh..”

 

Richie didn’t hear the rest, his mind trailed off into his thoughts again. The papers full of information fit the description of their problem so well. It gave him a spark of hope that Eddie could still be okay and _alive_. Anything that would bring him back would be worth the risk.

 

“Th-Thank you s-so much.” Bill said hanging up, shaking Richie out of his thoughts. Bill handed him a post-it paper with a phone number. “Th-this person c-could answer all y-your qu-questions. It’s up t-to you. No matter wha-what you decide,” He said inhaling deeply and looking at the Losers, then back at him. “We’ll be right by your side.” He said with no stutter.

 

Richie looked between him and the gang, nodding lightly before grabbing the phone and dialing the number. It rang for a while before someone answered. They sounded shaken up themselves when they mumbled, “Hello..?”.

 

Richie closed his eyes for a second and took a breath. He cleared his throat and said -

 

“Hi. My.. my name is Richie Tozier from Derry, Maine..” He said into the speaker. The person on the other end said hello again. “Someone very close to me.. disappeared without a trace. I’ve heard you went through the same situation before, and that you could possibly help me..” Richie inhaled deeply, he could faintly hear a whispered conversation in the distance through the speaker.

 

He looked up at Bill and pursed his lips before speaking again.

 

“Is this Mike Wheeler?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


-

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this, crazy ending right? I actually had no intention of making this continued, until this happened. But if you guys want a continuation send me a message on my Tumblr or if you even want to yell at me feel free to do so :,)


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